


Somebody Loves You

by thatviciousvixen



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M, Some very minor violence, and tons of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 08:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5620774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatviciousvixen/pseuds/thatviciousvixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With blasters firing and death on his heels, all Poe knows is that he needs to get back to Finn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somebody Loves You

All around him blasters go off like fireworks, cheerful and bright as he dodges them in an attempt to save his own skin. They light up the night sky on Geonosis in bright bursts of red, yellow, and blue - like it’s the New Year, like it’s a celebration. It makes everything look surreal. Light, joy, illumination; they clash with the sounds of death and fear that fall on panicked ears. 

Poe coughs. He can taste blood. 

He wasn’t supposed to be here. The orders he’d been given this morning had him flying to Dagobah to scout new locations for a rebel base, but at the last minute Jessika’s X-wing had to be shopped for repairs and he’d been sent to this godforsaken desert instead. Not that he regrets it - he’d put himself in the line of fire before anyone else any day of the week, especially Jessika. She’s like a sister to him, he won’t risk her life in favor of his own. The fact remains, though. If the plans hadn’t changed he’d be sitting with Finn in the mess hall right now, laughing at BB-8 and throwing balled up napkins at each other until the General or someone else with wisdom and maturity makes a comment about their childishness. 

He needs to get back. He needs at least one more night of carefree, gleeful happiness with Finn, whether the other man knows what it means to Poe or not. He needs to introduce him to so many things, to drink in Finn’s face as he experiences the world as it comes. He needs to go home.

The old droid factory has been abandoned for years, old buildings and structures towering over him and casting imposing shadows all around as he dodges behind another wall to avoid a shot from a blaster. It hits the stone about three feet from his head. He’s lucky Stormtroopers are such terrible shots. How did Finn end up with such good aim when the Order clearly doesn’t put a lot of faith in marksmanship? He’ll have to ask when he gets home. He can already see Finn’s smile, hear his laughter as he ducks his head and makes excuses, claims he isn’t as good as Poe makes him out to be. Someday Poe is going to grab him by the front of his jacket and kiss him until he believes all the wonderful things Poe says about him.

But first he’s got to get off of Geonosis. 

The sound of footsteps moves closer, dozens of pairs of boots marching in time as they advance. His only hope is to make it back to his fighter and into his cockpit, if he can get to his X-wing he knows he can get out of here. They don’t stand a chance against him in the air. No one does. 

So he runs. He runs until his lungs burn in protest, until it feels like he’s swallowed hot liquid metal and that every breath coughs up fire and smoke. He runs until the wound on his side reopens where it was just beginning to heal, soaking the side of his flight suit in slick red blood that smells like iron and rust. He runs until all he can hear is the rapid _shuff-shuff-shuff_ of his feet trying to propel off of loose sand. He runs and he thinks only of Finn and Rey and General Organa and little BB-8, who wasn’t allowed to come with him but is surely expecting him home by now. 

Another shot hits nearby, glancing off of a large rock to his left. While the initial blast misses, the sparks sent up by it ricochet back, kissing white heat across his face. He shouts and shields his eyes but doesn’t stop running. He’s so close now. He can see a wing tip peeking up over a dune, beckoning him closer. He’s almost there.

As he crests the hill he stumbles, sliding down the sandy slope until he’s at the base of the X-wing. Standing back up is a chore; his body is one long raw nerve, side singing in agony as he opens the cockpit and just manages to drag himself up. 

The night around him lights up, and just as he pulls his legs in he catches a shot to the back of his thigh. His voice is hoarse as he shouts out but there’s no time to dwell on the pain. He’s so close. The leather of his seat presses against the wound and he slides around a bit as his blood slicks the fabric. Controls light up in front of him, blurring in front of his eyes. He’s so close. 

He grits his teeth, thinks of Finn, and guns his ship towards the stars.

Somewhere between Geonosis and D’Qar he blacks out. Thank god for autopilot and the carefully entered coordinates that point his ship in the right direction even when he isn’t able to man the controls. 

*

The problem with autopilot is that while it can steer the ship, it can’t exactly land it. Poe is thrust into consciousness as a loud grinding noise fills his head, followed by a horrific sounding crunch and a sudden stop that flings him into his controls. He can hear voices raised in alarm just outside, but he can’t make out who or what they are. He’s so, so tired. His body hurts in places he’s never paid much attention to before, and there’s a dull drumbeat ache in his head that’s making him nauseous. 

His limbs tremble as he releases the latch and opens the cockpit. White knuckled hands grip the edge as he swings the bad leg out, followed by the good. For a moment all he can do is sit on the edge. The ground looks so far away, and the edges of his vision are black and fuzzy. 

“Poe!”

He knows that voice. He’s heard that voice cry out in alarm more times than he likes, and now he’s the cause of the panic. Poe looks up to see Finn running at top speed towards him, a look of concern on his face. He shouldn’t be running. His back is still healing from his own recent injuries, running can’t be good for a new spine. Still, Poe is happy to see him.

It’s the last thought that flashes across his mind as he falls to the ground, the hard pavement of the runway breaking his fall. 

*

“Poe! Poe, can you hear me?”

“Finn, _move_. He’s lost quite a bit of blood, general Organa. We’ll have enough in our stores for a transfusion, but we’ll need to replace the units immediately.”

“Poe, listen, it’s going to be okay. Do you hear me? You’re home now, you’re in good hands. It’s going to be alright.”

“Finn! I know you’re upset but if you don’t get out of the way I’m going to have you restrained!”

Finn swears in a language Poe isn’t sure he recognizes. Which is all wrong, words like that shouldn’t come out of a mouth made for laughter and kindness. Finn smiles like it ought to be his day job. He shouldn’t have any reason to curse.

A hand latches onto his own, followed by Finn’s voice close to his ear. “You promised me you’d come home, and if you were wondering? This sure as hell doesn’t count.”

*

“Time to wake up, Poe. You’ve been asleep for far too long.”

He knows that voice. Sometimes it comes to him in his dreams, soft and soothing as it washes away any tensions he’s carried with him throughout the day. The voice calls to him from the past. It sounds like home cooked meals and learning how to swim, like learning to fly an X-wing for the first time and grass stains in his pants. Like childhood. Home.

He opens his eyes. 

“Mama?”

Shara Bey sits next to her son’s bedside, honey brown eyes warm as she studies him. She looks just as he remembered; her black curls are swept into a messy bun away from her face, skin pale but cheeks rosy and alive. Slim hands lay clasped in her lap, delicate but strong. He can remember those hands fixing engines back on Yavin Four, digging in the soil around their home to plant vegetables, stirring stewpots that smelled of rich meats and spices. He remembers them stroking his hair back when he was sick, soothing illnesses and injuries with a touch only a mother could wield. 

“Welcome back, little comet,” she says, her smoky soft voice easing away some of the ache in his head. “Finished napping?”

He knows it’s not right, knows that she’s been dead for years, but he’s still startled to find that his surroundings don’t make any sense. He’s laying in a sick-bay bed, the sterile white linens crisp and cool underneath him. There’s a little table next to him holding an empty glass and a pitcher of water, and next to that is a willow tree. Instead of highly polished floors he looks down to see a blanket of soft green grass, little white flowers poking their tender buds up in search of fresh air. Sunlight streams through a canopy of leaves above them, light scattered across his blanket.

“Where are we?” he asks slowly, looking up at his mother. He’s lost, but he is calm.

Shara looks around, smiling. “Nowhere really. Just a nice place to sit and visit. It reminds me a bit of home, don’t you think? There was a little clearing just like this where you used to go and hide when you were mad at me for not buying you a lightsaber or letting you ride a tauntaun or whatever it was at the time. I used to go and find you asleep in the grass, and when you woke up you had always forgotten that you were angry.”

Poe winces. “I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

“You weren’t bad at all.” Her laugh is soft, so beautiful that it brings tears to his eyes. “You were the very best little boy any mother could ask for. You were always so full of adventure, I could barely keep up.” She reaches forward, stroking his hair back from his face. “It looks like not much has changed.”

Her hands are soft and cool, and he leans into her touch. “I don’t look for it, mama. It just finds me. I’m fighting for the resistance, I’m bound to get hurt every now and then.”

Shara sighs softly, dropping her hand to rest over his. “Trust me, I know. Your father and I had our fair share of bumps and bruises before you were born. I just...this isn’t what I wanted for you, little comet. I wanted you to know peace, I feel like all we fought for was for nothing.”

“No!” Poe raises his eyebrows, sitting up. “It just takes time, you know that. What we’re doing is the right thing, and I’m willing to give my life if others can be free.”

She laughs - not at him, never at him - and shakes her head. “You really are just like me, aren’t you? I’m sure I said those exact words at some point in my life.” A firm hand pushes him to lie back, returning to stroking his hair. “That’s the price of peace, I suppose. It’s just never easy when it’s someone you love.” She glances down, raising an eyebrow. “And now you’ve got someone who loves you back, so I expect you to be a little more careful.”

Poe shoots her a sidelong glance. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” she teases, fond. “Poe, you’ve never been able to lie to me. I don’t think you’d be able to dream of lying to me either, so let’s just be honest with each other, hmm?”

A deep sigh is the only response Poe gives. He closes his eyes and tries to play it cool, but his mind immediately swims with visions of Finn. Finn, who smiles brighter than both of Tatooine’s suns put together. Finn, who was raised in a climate of fear and oppression but broke free because he couldn’t kill innocent people. Not even to save his own skin. Finn, who wears Poe’s old jacket every day like a life vest.

He opens his eyes, staring dully at the canopy of trees above. “I love him too, mama,” he whispers.

“I know, sweet Poe,” she whispers back, quiet and soft like it’s a secret between them. “And I know that you know that he loves you too. So go be the amazing man that I know you are and tell him.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Poe says, voice thick as he forces out a laugh. “It’s nowhere near as easy as flying an X-wing straight into the core of a super weapon. Give me an army of Stormtroopers any day of the week, I can handle that no problem. But this? This is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

Shara smiles, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Good thing you’re so brave then, hmm?” She leans in, kissing her son’s forehead. It’s a goodbye, he can feel it. “Now wake up, you’ve worried that boy enough for one lifetime.”

*

“-and after that they told me I needed to stop staying behind to help Slip, that we were only as strong as our weakest link. Phasma used to be furious any time I stopped to help anyone. Said I was wasting my true potential by escorting lesser soldiers.”

Poe’s head is throbbing. There’s a dull ache in his side and the back of his thigh, and his throat feels like he’s spent three straight days shouting at the top of his lungs. Opening his eyes feels like too much work, so he doesn’t.

“And the food. Yeesh. You can’t imagine how bad it was. It wasn’t even food, not really. They called them Stormtrooper rations, these disgusting cans of gray mush that were completely nutritionally balanced but tasted like absolutely nothing. The texture was awful. If we ever get around to sex and you want to know why I don’t swallow? I’ll have to retell you this story.’

He can hear Finn somewhere nearby prattling on, and can almost register what he’s saying. His voice and presence are soothing enough that the content really doesn’t matter, he’s just happy to have the man close. He wishes he could reach out and take his hand, but it feels like too much work for his broken body.

A door opens and a new set of feet click in. 

“Master Finn?”

It’s a med-droid. Polite and efficient and emotionless. 

“Master Finn, General Organa has ordered me to remind you that your body needs to sleep and that you cannot run on Master Dameron’s presence alone. She wishes for you to return to your bunker immediately for rest.”

“Sure, of course,” Finn says quickly. “I’m just going to stick around for ten more minute, then I’ll head to bed. Thanks.”

The droid walks back out, feet clanging against the floor as it retreats. Immediately Finn is talking again.

“That was a lie. Just in case you can hear me and you were worried I was going to leave or something. I’m not. BB-8 told me that when I was in the coma you never left my bedside, so there’s no way I’m leaving you either.”

A hand takes Poe’s, lacing their fingers together. “God I miss you. Which is not something I’m used to. Where I come from everyone is replaceable, we’re all just numbers on a roster. Then you met me, and trusted me, and gave me a _name_ , and...I don’t know, I realized that people are more than numbers. You’re so much more than that. You’re more than anything. I’ve never met anyone like you before, and I doubt I ever will again.” 

Finn pauses and draws in a breath. “I need you to wake up, Poe. I missed every opportunity I’ve had so far to tell you how I feel, so I need you to wake up so I can get the chance. I’ve been a coward. About everything. But I’m going to take a page out of your book and find the courage to tell you. So wake up, alright?”

Silence. Poe wants to respond, but the mere act of opening his eyes feels like a chore.

Time passes in silence. Finn seems to be out of words for the moment, the only sound the ticking of a clock nearby. Poe counts the seconds. He manages to get to six-hundred and sixty before he can open his eyes.

It must be late. The medical bay is silent save for occasional movement in the hallway beyond the door, or the rustle of another patient somewhere close. Finn has his arms folded on the side of the bed, head resting against them. Poe’s not entirely sure if he’s sleeping or just resting his eyes, but all he knows is that they need to talk. Immediately. No more waiting.

“F-Finn?”

Finn’s head pops open and his dark eyes go wide, stunned and thrilled in equal measure. “Poe!” He jumps to his feet, leaning over slightly to get a better look at his friend. “You’re awake! I mean, of course you’re awake, you know that, you’re here. But I mean, it’s been three days and I’m so happy to see you up and-”

Managing a weary grin, Poe forces his hand up to silence the chattering man above him. “Water first. Then talking,” he rasps.

“Oh. Right.” Finn blushes, grabbing the cup from the bedside table and filling it with water. He wraps a strong arm around Poe’s shoulders, helping him sit and take a slow sip. “Better?”

Poe nods, blinking slowly. “So much,” he breathes. “Three days you said?”

“Three days,” Finn affirms. “Which I know isn’t as long as you waited for me, but I’ve been worried sick.”

Poe turns his head toward Finn, smiling. “You’ve been here the whole time?” Finn’s is a good face to wake up to. He could see himself waking up to it every morning. 

A shrug is his only response, Finn’s cheeks coloring as he looks away.

“I know for a fact that chair isn’t comfortable to spend more than five minutes in, you’re a good man,” Poe says, closing his eyes and resting his head back against the pillow. “I had the weirdest dream while I was out.”

“Oh?”

Poe worries his bottom lip between his teeth. Now or never. “Yeah, I was laying in this bed, but it was in the middle of a forest. My mom was there. She was just as beautiful as I remember, and she kept telling me I have to be more careful now because someone loves me.” He opens his eyes, looking over at Finn. “She also told me to be brave and tell you how I feel about you.”

For a moment Finn can only stare. “And...how is that?”

“Strongly,” Poe says with a soft laugh. “Listen, I knew from the moment I saw you without your helmet. The only reason I made it off of Geonosis is because I needed to get back to you, to see you at least one more time.” 

Finn leans in, face grave. “I’ve been beside myself since you left, Poe. Every time you leave I just. Can’t stop thinking about you, worrying. I wasn’t raised to care about anyone like this, it was discouraged back on Starkiller base. I mean we all had our things, we’re human, but...you? You’re something completely new. And I’m terrified of you.”

Poe laughs, reaching over to grab Finn’s hand. “Trust me, the feeling is mutual. I’m okay with it, though.”

“More than okay,” Finn agrees, and then he’s leaning in so much closer, and their lips are brushing together softly just before they both move in and kiss properly. It’s a sunrise, burning and bright, and Poe is sure he’ll never be cold again.

In the distance a frantic whistling sounds, followed by the alarmed beep of his sweet little BB-8 droid as it rushes in to check on him. His vitals must be up, BB-8 is linked to his heart rate and always knows exactly what’s going on. And his heartbeat must be especially fast, judging by the way it races as Finn kisses him. The droid stops in its tracks, beeping curiously when they fail to part. It chirps and ever so slowly rolls back out of the room.

Finn laughs against his lips, and it hits Poe just then that he’ll need to be more careful from now on. He's got someone to come home to now.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh Poe. Oh Finn. I love you both so much. 
> 
> Come join me on [tumblr](http://that-vicious-vixen.tumblr.com) so we can nerd out over Stormpilot!!


End file.
